The Music or the Misery
by They Call Me Alpha
Summary: Charani Aria D'Lanuit is Quasimodo's younger sister, pulled from their mother's body on the night of her death and raised by the deacon in the cathedral, Notre Dame. Shortly after her 20th birthday, she meets Clopin, Esmeralda, and Frollo and her calm life gets turned upside-down. Follow Charani on adventures to find out who she truly is, what happened to her family, and much more.
1. The Bells of Notre Dame

Under the cover of night, three gypsies, two men and a woman, traveled in a small boat into Paris. Suddenly, a cry pierced the silence as the boat emerged from under a bridge.

"Shut it up, will you!" hissed one of the men.

"We'll be spotted!" murmured the second.

The woman gently rocked the bundle in her arms, a baby, "Hush now, young one," she cooed softly. The other man wrapped his arms around the woman and the bundle, trying to calm the child with his embrace.

The boat stopped.

"Four gilders for safe passage into Paris," a cloaked boatman whispered greedily as he held out a gloved hand.

Then, a second sound pierced the night's calmness, the galloping hooves of a dozen horses. The cloaked man fled back under the bridge in terror, leaving the three gypsies, who had just stepped off the boat, to fend for themselves. Within seconds, they were surrounded with spears at their necks.

"Judge Claude Frollo!" gasped on of the gypsies in alarm.

The Judge, held high on a black steed, urged his horse forward towards the gypsies.

"Bring these gypsy vermin to the Palace of Justice," Frollo ordered dismissively.

"You there," one of the guards grabbed the woman by her arm, "what are you hiding?" He tried to take the bundle from her arms, but she resisted his attempts.

"Probably stolen goods, no doubt. Take them from her," Frollo ordered once more. The gypsy woman's eyes widened in fear before she took off down the snow-covered street. She stole a glance back only to confirm her fears that she was being chased. Frollo galloped after her until they reached the steps of Notre Dame.

"Sanctuary! Please give us sanctuary!" the woman pleaded as she banged on the tall wooden doors of the mighty cathedral. But her efforts were in vain, as Frollo had caught up with her. Frollo tore the bundle from her arms, kicking her back against the stairs of the cathedral, rendering the gypsy woman unconscious. The baby began to cry. Frollo looked down at the bundle.

"A baby?" he questioned, removing the cloth from its head only to reveal a deformed face.

"No," he growled, "a monster."

Frollo quickly looked around before seeing a stone well. Urging his horse towards it, Frollo held out the baby in the cloth, about to throw it down the well. There was a flash of lightning.

"Stop!" cried the archdeacon as he emerged from the cathedral.

"This is an unholy demon. I am sending it back to hell, where it belongs," Frollo stated, unmoved by the holy man. Still, the archdeacon continued.

"See there the innocent blood you have spilt on the steps of Notre Dame," he gestured to the woman who lay motionless on the ground behind him.

"I am guiltless – she ran, I pursued," Frollo claimed, slowing becoming uncomfortable with the situation.

"Now you would add this child's blood to your guilt?" the archdeacon pleaded, willing Frollo to change his mind.

"My conscious is clear!" exclaimed Frollo as he took the child back into his arms.

"You can lie to yourself and your minions, you can claim that you haven't a qualm, but you can never run from, nor hide what you've done from, the bells of Notre Dame," declared the archdeacon. Frollo glanced around the courtyard in fear; it seemed that ever statue was looking down at him in accusation.

"What must I do?" Frollo asked meekly.

"Care for the child, raise it as your own," the archdeacon suggested as he picked up the woman to take her into the safety of the cathedral.

"What? I'm to be saddled with this misshapen—" Frollo paused as a thought crept through his mind, "Very well. Let him live with you, in your church."

"Live here? But where?" the archdeacon gasped.

"Anywhere. Just so he's kept locked away where no one else can see. The bell tower, perhaps. And who knows – our Lord works in mysterious ways. Even this foul creature may yet prove one day to be of use to me," Frollo dismounted his horse and followed the archdeacon into the cathedral.

The archdeacon gently laid the woman down on a cot in on of the back rooms of the church, adjacent to where he lived, and covered her with a blanket. Frollo handed the baby to the archdeacon, relieved to finally be rid of the atrocity.

"What will you name him?" the archdeacon asked as he gently rocked the baby back to sleep. Frollo thought for a moment before a wicked smirk spread across his face.

"Quasimodo," he declared, "it means half formed." With that, Frollo turned and walked to the exit of the cathedral.

"Oh, and one more thing," Frollo stopped and called over his shoulder, "I will send my guards for the gypsy in the morning." The door slammed behind him, blowing out several candles and waking the baby in the process.

"Hush now, little one," the archdeacon cooed as he continued to rock the baby back to sleep.

The woman groaned, her eyes slowly opening to take in her surroundings. Her memories of the moments before flooded back to her as she shot up and looked frantically for her baby, only to fall back into the cot in pain as she clutched her rounded stomach. The archdeacon approached her quickly, rubbing her back and assuring her that both her and her child were safe.

"Some-something is wrong," she managed to hiss in pain as she clutched at her stomach. The archdeacon but the baby down on a bundle of pillows next to the cot and examined the woman. He lifted up the blanket and saw that a fair amount of blood stained her skirts just under her rounded belly. His eyes widened in a mixture of fear and panic.

"Stay here," he ordered gently before running out of the room. He returned moments later with three nuns, two pails of water, and several towels. The nuns halted at the sight of the blood before one of them stepped forward, towards the pained gypsy.

"I am Mother Odile and these are Sisters Marceline and Alida," the older nun took the woman's hand, giving her a light squeeze, "We are here to help you, my dear."

The gypsy could do no more than nod before another wave of pain came over her.

"Deacon, please start a fire, Marceline, warm the water, Alida, keep her awake," Odile requested as she began to prepare the small room for the birth that was about to happen.

"What is your name, miss?" Alida asked gently as she brushed the hair back from the woman's face and held her hand tightly.

"Aria," the woman managed to get out between gasps of air. It was Mother Odile's turn to look at the woman now.

"Okay Aria, I am going to need you to push for me, dear," Odile said as she knelt down between Aria's legs, ready to catch the baby once it arrived.

After almost two hours of labor, Aria gave birth to a tiny, but beautiful, baby girl. Mother Odile quickly cleaned the child off before moving to hand her to her mother.

"What do you want to name her?" Marceline asked as she approached her bedside with the archdeacon. Alida let out a small gasp as Aria's hand went limp in her grasp. She quickly checked her pulse for a heartbeat, only to confirm their desolate suspicions.

Aria had died during the birth of her second child.

"What shall we do with the baby?" Alida asked, looking between Odile and the deacon for answers.

"We will take her with us and raise her in the convent," Odile said after a moment of thought.

"Are you sure?" asked the archdeacon, "shouldn't she stay here with her brother?" He picked up the boy the looked to be barely a year old and looked at the three nuns.

"They will have plenty of interaction," Odile confirmed, "but you, alone, should not be made to raise two children by yourself. Once the children are of age to process thought, we will introduce them, until then, we should give this girl a name and produce burial plans for her mother." The others nodded solemnly.

"Charani Aria D'Lanuit," the archdeacon announced, "Phoenix song of the night. She is rising from the ashes to be born a new, in a world where our Lord will keep her safe from harm." The nuns smiled at one another before bidding the arch deacon adieu and leaving for their convent, promising to come back in the morning to assist with the burial plans.


	2. Out There part 1

Today was the day! Today was the day that Quasimodo would finally go outside and enjoy the Festival of Fools, and it was all because of her. That 'her' would be Quasi's younger sister, Charani. Although Charani lived in the convent while Quasi lived in the bell tower, they were virtually inseparable – except for when Judge Claude Frollo reared his ugly head – than the girl would escape down into the square bellow. When Charani was very young, the archdeacon, her adoptive father, told her to stay away from Frollo, but never gave a real reason as to why, simply saying that he was a bad man with a guilty conscious. For the most part, Charani heeded her father's words, but she still remained curious as to the real reason why she wasn't to be seen be him.

"Quasi, look! They're setting up for the festival!" Charani called down from where she was seated high in the rafters, peering out over the square bellow. Quasimodo smiled happily and made his way through the rafters to join his sister on the ledge.

"Do you really think that we can do it, Chari? Hide from my master?" Quasimodo asked, nervously toying with the end of his shirt.

"Of course we can!" Charani said as she stood up, balanced on the wooded beam, and walked towards the bells. "I've managed to evade his sight for nearly 20 years now, I think I can handle avoiding him for a few more hours."

Quasimodo just smiled at his sister before climbing back down to his balcony.

"Good morning" he says to a baby bird that is perched in a nest on the railing of the balcony. He gently nudged the bird with his finger, coaxing him awake and into his hand.

"Will toady be the day? Are you ready to fly?" he asked the bird. The bird shakes his head in refusal.

"You sure? Good day to try. Why, if I picked a day to fly, oh, this would be it! He Festival of Fools! It will be fun – the jugglers, and music, and dancing…" Quasimodo exclaimed wistfully, trailing off as the bird began to flap its wings and fly.

"Go on! Nobody wants to be cooped up here forever!" he moved his hands and gestured to the flock of birds outside. The bird tweeted and flew off with the flock. Quasimodo smiled longingly before retreating back inside to find his sister. He looked around, but caught no sight of her

"Chari, where are you?" he called. He got his answer after he heard a yelp and saw Charani begin to fall from one of the lower rafters. Quasimodo quickly ran and caught her in his arms before she could hit the ground.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly as he set her back on her feet.

"Yeah," Charani fell into him once she was set on the ground, "I just rolled my ankle," she said with a sheepish grin up at her brother.

"Here," he said as he helped her over to a chair, "let me help you." Quasimodo quickly found some bandages and started to wrap up Charani's ankle.

"You have to be more careful when you're up there," Quasimodo chided as he finished wrapping up her ankle and helped her to her feet.

"Thank you, Quasi," Charani said as she enveloped him in a hug. There was a gasp from across the room.

"Impossible," Frollo said as he looked with a mixture of fear and horror at the woman before him. Charani quickly gathered up her skirts and ran out onto the balcony. Frollo and Quasimodo followed quickly behind her, but before they could catch up she jumped off of the balcony and slid down the sides of the bell tower and cathedral until she landed safely on the ground. Charani spared a moment to look up and her brother and the man that should have never saw her, before sprinting across the square and ducking down an alleyway.

"Who was that woman?" Frollo demanded, as he stood tall over Quasimodo's quaking form.

"J-just a f-f-friend, master, she w-wants me to go to the f-f-festival," Quasimodo stuttered out.

"Lies!" Frollo roared, making to strike his ward, but stopped when he saw Quasimodo shaking in fear. He had made his point.

"I didn't mean to upset you, master," Quasimodo knelt at his master's feet.

"Quasimodo, can't you understand? When your heartless mother abandoned you as a child, anyone else would have drowned you. And this is my thanks for taking you in and raising you as my son? Secrets and lies?" Frollo sat at the table in a high seat, motioning for Quasimodo to come sit on the lower stool.

"I'm sorry, sir," Quasimodo hung his head in shame, as he sat on the stool across from Frollo.

"Oh, my dear Quasimodo, you don't know what it's like out there. I do… I do…" Frollo moved to stand at the balcony once more, "The world is cruel, the world is wicked, it's I alone whom you can trust in this whole city, I am your only friend. I, who keep you, teach you, feed you, dress you. I who look upon you without fear. How can I protect you, boy, unless you always stay in here, away in here? You are deformed"

"I am deformed," Quasimodo agreed solemnly.

"And you are ugly," Frollo stated without hesitation.

"And I am ugly," Quasimodo agreed once more.

"And these are crimes for which the world shows little pity. You do not comprehend," Frollo looked out over the square as Quasimodo moved to stand next to him.

"You are my one defender," Quasimodo supplemented, the feeling of loneliness beginning to overwhelm him.

"Out there, they'll revile you as a monster," Frollo gestured to the square below them.

"I am a monster," Quasimodo muttered to himself.

"Out there, they will hate with scorn and jeer," Frollo looked to him, feigning sympathy.

"Only a monster," Quasimodo repeated.

"Why invite their calumny and consternation? Stay in here, be faithful to me," Frollo looked at him with accusing eyes.

"I'm faithful," Quasimodo pleaded.

"Grateful to me," Frollo continued.

"I'm grateful," he pleaded once more.

"Do as I say. Obey, and stay in here," Frollo commended, leaving Quasimodo alone on the balcony.

"I'll stay in here," Quasimodo said as Frollo makes to leave, "You are good to me, master. I'm sorry."

"You are forgiven. But, remember, Quasimodo: this is your sanctuary," Frollo said over his shoulder as he began to descend the stairs of the bell tower.

"Sanctuary," Quasimodo replied, his head heavy with sorrow.

"Safe behind these windows and these parapets of stone, gazing at the people down below me. All my life I watch them as I hide up here alone, hungry for the histories they show me," he moved to his worktable, where a miniature replica of the square was carved out of wood, including figurines of all of the townsfolk.

"All my life I memorize their faces, knowing them as they will never know me. All my life I wonder how it feels to pass a day, not above them… but part of them…" Quasimodo walked quickly to the balcony before climbing the walls of the bell tower onto the roof.

"And out there, living in the sun! Give me one day out there; all I ask is one, to hold forever! Out there, where they all live unaware. What I'd give, what I'd dare, Just to live one day out there!" Quasimodo stood, running across the rooftops of the cathedral onto the bridge that separated two of the bell towers.

"Out there among the millers and the weavers and their wives. Through the roofs and gables, I can see them. Ever day they shout and scold and go about their lives, heedless of the gift it is to be them. If I was in their skin, I'd treasure ever instant. Out there, strolling by the Seine, taste a morning out there, like ordinary men who walk about there! Just one day, then I swear, I'll be content, with my share. Won't resent, won't despair, old and bent, I won't care. I'll have spent one day out there!" Quasimodo shouted to the skies as he stood, arms raised to the heavens, silently praying that his dream would come true.


End file.
